Life Less Ordinary
by HarvardDropout
Summary: Tweek may prove to be the spark that Craig needs in his life, but will Craig be able to handle his own new realizations about his ambitionless self without cracking under pressure and losing Tweek when the blonde finally gains some confidence? Creek with some K2!
1. Special Education

**AUTHORS NOTE:** Hey Everyone! This is my first South Park fan fiction, so uh... yeah. Hi! I'm usually doing GLEE fan fictions, but I've grown tired of them (I should really get around to finishing the four I have before starting more stories, but oh well), so here I am. I hope you enjoy, and any reviews and thoughts would be much appreciated along the way!

**SUMMARY:** Craig's been following the same routine his whole life, and he's grown weary of it. With the arrival of a strange new kid named Tweek, he finds his world being thrown completely off track as he tries to get closer to him. Is Tweek the answer to adding some spark to Craig's dull life, or will Craig crack under the now noticeable realizations of how ambitionless and unsure he is of himself while helping to build up Tweek's own confidence, and will he be able to battle his own demons before losing Tweek completely? Creek and heavy doses of K2!

* * *

It was a normal day just like any other. I'd wake up, get dressed, give Stripe II some attention, and head off to school for the day. I'd sit through my classes, eat lunch in silence while Clyde and Token chatted at the other end of the table, and sleep until school was finally over and I could go home.

So why didn't it feel like one?

"You're done already?" Mr. Garrison asked from the front of the room. Despite his craziness and countless run-ins with the school board, Garrison had found himself teaching 11th Grade European History at South Park High School.

I nodded. History was my strong point, so it didn't take me more than ten minutes to finish the simple assignment that'd no doubt keep the rest of the class busy for another twenty.

"Take this down to the office," He waved a manilla folder towards me. I stood up and grabbed it, waiting for any final words of knowledge. "The computers are down today so we've got to take attendance the old fashioned way."

I nodded again and began my journey down to the front office, sneaking glances into other classrooms on the way. This place was like a prison that kids voluntarily locked themselves into for seven hours a day, five days a week. I frowned, reached under my chullo hat and scratched behind my ear.

"Well, you've already missed your first four classes for the day, but it's not a problem, you'll get to those tomorrow," I heard Mr. Redfield, the 11th grade Guidance Counselor, reassure over in a nearby room when I stepped into the office.

"O-Okay," an unfamiliar voice squeaked. I furrowed my brows in curiousity. I wasn't used to hearing a new voice, especially in a school where I could probably name everyone on command.

"Can I help you?" Principal Davis asked as she stepped out of her corner office. I nodded, and handed her the manilla folder that I'd been tasked with dropping off. She smiled thankfully and laid it down on the receptionist's desk, who for some reason wasn't in her place.

I turned to leave before she spoke again.

"Mr. Tucker, are you busy?" she questioned as she tucked a stray piece of her dark brown hair behind her ear and adjusted her glasses. I shrugged. "We've just got a new student today, and well, it'd be nice if you could show him to his class. That's if you're not in a hurry to get back, of course."

I laughed inwardly. Me in a hurry to get back to class? Don't get me wrong, I really liked learning about the past, but I didn't exactly enjoy sitting around in a class with 25 other kids who I didn't care for and Mr. Garrison, of all people.

I didn't get to answer before Mr. Redfield ushered out a nervous wreck of a teen from his own office. I lifted a brow in amusement at the sight: Messy blonde hair that stuck up in every direction as if he'd just woken up, tired brown eyes that frantically scanned the room around him, a silver thermos clutched tightly in his hands... his shirt had even been buttoned up haphazardly. This kid was a mess, but a mess that was put together well.

It was the first time I'd ever really been interested in anyone other than my guinea pig.

He stood there, fiddling his fingers nervously as he shifted his weight from side-to-side, glancing from the floor to meet my stare every couple of seconds, as if he were trying to figure out when it was safe to look but he kept getting caught in the act. It made my stomach tingle for some reason.

Principal Davis cleared her throat, grabbing my attention instantly. "So, Mr. Tucker?"

"Yeah," I breathed. "Sure. Come on," I motioned for the thin, golden-haired boy to follow me. He obliged, but not before looking back at Principal Davis to make sure it was okay. I held the heavy wooden door open for him and he gave a meek smile in return as a sort of thanks. We headed down the halls in silence, my hands shoved in my pockets and the other boy's arms wrapped around his own body, clutching himself and his thermos as if it'd help him stop shivering.

Never in my life had I ever wracked my brain for something to say, yet here I found myself leading the new kid to his class, trying to desperately remember normal conversation lines that people used. I was never one for communication.

"So uh, what've you got right now?" I asked uncomfortably. This was probably the first time in weeks that I had tried to start a conversion, and at least days since asking a single question.

He jumped.

"Um... Room 202. Uh, m-math?"

Did I do something wrong?

"Dude... are you alright?"

"What? What! Is-Is something _-nngh- _wrong with me! Oh God!" He panicked, grabbing at his hair with his free hand. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at him in astonishment, worried.

"Whoa, calm down!" I grabbed his hand and tried to unraveled his fingers from his hair, placing it back down at his side. He instead went to fumble with a button on his shirt. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I DON'T KNOW! You're t-the one who n-noticed something!"

My worried expression faded and a confused one took its place. "Are you always like this?"

"L-like _-nngh-_ what?" he asked as quietly as I figured he possibly could. I raised a brow and just nodded toward him, expecting him to understand what I meant. He did. "Anxiety... a-and a f-few other t-things."

_That's one hell of a case of anxiety you've got there,_ I thought quietly, not wanting to say it out loud in fear of him flipping his shit again. We started walking down the hall once more, with me looking over at him every so often. His body seemed to be constantly humming, like a generator. I cracked a small smile.

We were on the second floor, rounding the corner near the 200's when I decided to ask another question. "What's your name?"

"Tweek." He answered without missing a beat. I pursed my lips.

"Tweak?"

"Tweek. Two e's."

"Fitting. But seriously, what's your name?"

He looked up at me with an estranged expression. "Tweek."

I let out a long breath that I didn't realize I'd been holding ever since he locked eyes with my own. Tweek was a strange name, but then again, he seemed pretty strange himself. Besides, it had a nice ring to it. "I like it."

Color rose to Tweek's face and I couldn't help but grin at the fact I had caused that to happen. We stopped outside of room 202, an orange laminated paper was taped to the door and read 'MRS. ERICKSON SPECIAL EDUCATION.

"Special Education?" My grin turned to a frown as I looked over at Tweek, who seemed unphased. "I think Mr. Redfield might have given you the wrong schedule, we should head back-"

"N-no, this is right," Tweek cut me off as he fumbled with the strap of his messenger bag. I didn't understand. I know it wasn't right of me to ask, but I had to.

"Why?"

He looked at me with expectant eyes, as if he were waiting for me to fill in the obvious blanks. I didn't.

"I-I'm sort of a disturbance, if y-you haven't _-nngh- _noticed," he mumbled gently. I shook my head in disagreement.

"It's... it's really not that noticeable." I lied, knowing good and well that it was incredibly noticeable and that kids would no doubt find him weird. For some reason though, I didn't. Sure the constant shaking and panicked outbursts were distracting, but I kind of found it interesting. It was different. Sometimes I liked different. "Even if it were, it's a special education class. I don't mean to be rude, but you seem like you can handle a lot more coursework than finger painting."

I don't know where the sudden ounce of care came from, and it alarmed me. It seemed to alarm Tweek as well, but not in the same sense.

"It's not j-just finger p-painting!" Tweek spouted angrily. I instantly regret what I'd said. "You learn the _-nngh-_ same stuff as a-any other class, it's just taught more s-slowly!"

"I didn't mean it like that... I'm sorry," I apologized for what had to be the first time in my life, or at least the first time I genuinely meant it. "It's just that, there's nothing wrong with you. You're just sort of... uh, jumpy, right? That's all?" I was walking on eggshells, choosing my words carefully.

Tweek's brows unclenched and he relaxed his shoulders. "Y-yeah, but they don't w-want me bothering other s-students. It's not so bad, i-it's less stress which h-helps _-nngh-_ me, especially with m-math. I have normal c-classes besides t-this one. They think it'll be g-good putting me in them," He gave his thermos a shake. "Ahh! I need more coffee!"

Once more, I was staring at Tweek with a look of astonishment, but this time I was wearing a faint grin. I wiped it off of my face once I took notice. Why was he so amusing to me? "Well that's good."

"N-no! Nothing good about not having c-coffee! It keeps me calm!" He misunderstood.

_We might need to set up an IV, then._

"Hello, you must be Tweek!" Mrs. Erickson popped her head out from her classroom. Tweek nodded and was waved inside, leaving me with my hands stuffed in my pockets. Mrs. Erickson smiled at me before shutting the door without another word. I huffed, gave her the middle finger through the door, and began wandering off back to my history class.

"Took you long enough!" Mr. Garrison complained as I rejoined the rest of the class. I rolled my eyes and took my seat, stuffing my things into my backpack. The bell was set to ring in a few minutes, and I didn't want to waste a single second longer than I had to in that room. "Alright class, tonight I just want you guys to go over chapter 14 in your textbooks, and don't forget to watch that new episode of Jersey Shore! There'll be a quiz."

The class groaned, and so did I.

I found myself oddly awake and alert during my last class, half expecting for Tweek to come barging in through the doors with a slip of paper that said he was new and couldn't find the room. That wasn't the case though, so I ended up wasting 50 perfectly good minutes for napping.

Even once school was out, I hovered around the courtyard, waiting for the twitchy new kid to walk out the front doors of the main building. Again, time was wasted, and I scolded myself for actually even doing something as stupid as waiting for someone I didn't know. Even if he did show up, what would happen? Would I say anything?

I'm never unphased when something happens, so I didn't understand why I was suddenly interested in this new kid. It was like him showing up out of nowhere shattered my normal routine of life, and I had to figure out how to get it back in order... but did I really want to do that?


	2. New Friends

I stood in the middle of the paved courtyard, keeping an eye out for a certain twitchy blonde. For some reason, I had found myself arriving at school a half an hour early in hopes of running into Tweek since I didn't have much luck yesterday.

Taking a drag from my cigarette, a blurry figure approaching me from the side caught in my peripheral vision. I whipped my head around, only to see that it was Kenny and his stupid orange parka.

"Can I help you?"

"Let me bum a cigarette," Kenny demanded as he dropped his hood.

I lifted a brow. "What do I look like?"

"A miserable boring cunt, but aren't we all?" A slight smirk made its home on his lips. "Although I've got to admit, you take the cake."

I grunted and handed him a cigarette. "Gee, thanks."

"Pleasure."

We stood there in silence, killing our lungs slowly, the occasional cough filling the air. This had sort of become a routine over the past three years since I'd started smoking upon entering high school. One of us would be smoking before school started, and the other would come up and join. Granted, Kenny was usually bumming cigarettes off me since he didn't have the money to buy his own.

I didn't mind, though. Kenny and I weren't friends in any sense of the word, but I did appreciate the company he provided, even if little to no words were spoken among us. It was actually nice since I didn't care for talking. Out of everyone in the school, Kenny was probably the only one who didn't make me want to punch them in the face.

Everything had an expiration date though, including my tolerance level of others, so after a few more minutes of trying to blow smoke circles and unsuccessfully spotting the newest addition to the school, I put out the cancer stick and headed inside.

_Maybe he's in the halls,_ I thought while walking to my first class, glancing around at all the other kids messing with whatever was in their lockers. _Maybe not._

Failing again, I sighed and sat down at my desk right as the bell rang. Within seconds, students began to fill up the empty seats around me.

_Tweek did say that besides that math class, all his others would be regular classes... so there was a chance that he'd end up in this one, right? _

I shook my head and scowled. What the hell was up with me, coming to school early and waiting around for the new kid to show up as if he owed me money? I didn't understand, and it was tough to try and reason while I was scanning over every person that walked through the door.

Minutes passed, the bell rang for class to begin, and no Tweek.

Laying my head face down on my desk, I groaned and closed my eyes, waiting for class to be over.

The day progressed in the same manner for the next two classes until lunch, where I took my usual spot at the corner table that was as far away from everyone else as it could possibly be. Token and Clyde eventually joined me, chattering cheerfully amongst themselves with the occasional expectant look over at me until I added a few words into the mix. Thankfully, this was enough to appease them.

I was beginning to think that the guidance counselor had decided to keep Tweek cooped up in those special education classes for the whole day, and that the only way I'd be able to find him would be to wait around Mrs. Erickson's door during 5th period.

That was, until a loud panicked shriek of, "Too much pressure!" filled the cafeteria, causing everyone to fall silent almost immediately. I looked up from my tray to see Tweek standing in the middle of the room, clutching his thermos in shaky hands, his hair just as messy as it were yesterday. I felt a small lopsided grin tug at the corner of my mouth.

I entertained the idea of going to ask him if he'd like to join me and the guys, because lord knows how unnerving it can be to find a spot in a high school cafeteria when you're new and have nobody to sit with, but I was upstaged by Stan, who was waving his hands over his head as if he were directing air traffic.

_Idiot._

"Hey, Tweek! Over here! Come sit with us, we saved you a seat!" Stan shouted excitedly as the room began to fill with conversations once more. I watched as Tweek gave him a nervous smile, lowered his head and obeyed Stan's commands, taking a spot across from him and next to Kyle, who patted Tweek on the back, earning a small jump.

I felt my face grow heated.

I'd been searching and waiting for Tweek all fucking day, only to have him snatched up right in front of me. What did Stan think he was doing? Better yet, what _was _he doing?

I continued to watch as Kyle spoke animatedly and leaned in next to Tweek, and Stan nodded along to whatever his best friend was saying. Kenny had his eyes fixated on Kyle, seemingly more interested in his face more than the words that were coming out of it. Tweek kept his nervous little smile as he listened, too.

"You alright?" Token asked, bringing me back to reality. I nodded and looked down at my tray, poking at the noodles. I wasn't feeling too hungry today. "You're not talking much today."

"Do I ever?"

Token seemed to think that over for a moment before answering my rhetorical question with a, "No, not really."

I rolled my eyes and looked back over at Tweek and the others. Without a second to even consider what I was doing, I stood up with my tray and started over towards their table, hovering awkwardly behind Tweek as if I were waiting for someone to notice me.

It didn't take long until there were a few pairs of eyes on me. "What's up, Craig?"

I shrugged. "Nothing."

I figured it was because Tweek remembered my voice that he turned and looked up at me, his eyes growing wide in surprise. "Oh, I m-met you yesterday," he said barely above a whisper. I nodded and stepped a foot over the bench, making some kid have to move down as I forced myself into the spot next to Tweek.

Stan, Kyle, and Kenny all looked at me with curiosity in their eyes. Wendy was too busy chatting with Bebe and Cartman was more interested in eating Wendy's lunch since she was too preoccupied to notice.

"Something wrong?" Kenny asked.

"No. Why?"

"It's just that you usually don't sit with us," Stan offers for an answer. "If I remember correctly, you actually hate us."

"_Most_ of us," Kenny interjects, making it clear that he was safe.

I scoffed and dared to take a quick glance to the left at Tweek, who was gazing at me expectantly as he waited for my rebuttal. Shit. I didn't want to look like an asshole. "Oh come on, since when have I ever-"

"You asked me to kindly go die in a hole and told Stan to go fuck himself when he asked if you needed any help in history just yesterday."

I sent a smoldering glare at Kyle who sat on the other side of Tweek. "Well it's not my fault you're such a fucking nerd to the point that you'll bitch and moan if you get anything less than an A-. I wouldn't be surprised if you jacked off to your test sco-"

"HEY!" Kenny bellowed angrily, slamming a hand on the table hard enough to startle me a bit. "Dude, we're alright and everything, but watch how you talk, okay? It's not cool."

Stan furrowed his brows as he looked between Kyle and Kenny, who was glancing nervously over at Kyle now, as if he'd overstepped his boundaries. I felt the bench shake and looked over at Tweek (I'd forgotten that he was even there) who looked like a frightened rabbit. His eyes were glued to his silver thermos, which he was screwing and unscrewing the cap off of nervously. I frowned, realizing that I must have made him uncomfortable with causing all the commotion.

Determined to keep the arguing down to a minimum in order to prevent Tweek from spazzing out, I decided to play friendly. "I apologize."

Kenny nodded, and Kyle just crossed his arms over his chest with a _hmmpf_.

"So... Tweek, you're really quiet," I state obviously, hoping for him to say something. "How did you meet these guys?"

"He was in my English class," Stan pipes up. I inwardly sigh at the lost chance to get Tweek to talk. "Kenny and Kyle had him in their law studies class. He's cool, isn't he? Like, a human massager!"

I want to slap my hand over my face at his stupidity, but I don't. "Yeah, he's awesome. Great taste in music, too. His iPod is filled with the coolest stuff. I'm definitely looking forward to going through it some more." Kenny added with a friendly smile.

Tweek blushed, and I couldn't help but find it adorable. "T-thanks. I'll um... if you'd like, I can make you a playlist."

"If it's not too much trouble, I'd love that."

"No trouble at all, I actually like making lists, _-nngh-_ especially playlists. It gives me s-something to focus on. It's calming."

"I want one, too!" I said a little too eagerly as a small wave of jealousy washes over me. I clear my throat and try to do some damage control before I make myself look even stupider. "You know, if that's cool. Music's cool. I like it."

_Jesus Christ, I sound like an uneducated quarterback meathead. _

"I-I don't know what kind of m-music you like..."

"The kind that's like, you know," I'm trying so hard to get the right words in order, but I can't. "The kind that means something. Meaningful. Uh, fast?"

Tweek just nods. I don't think he has a clue what I was trying to say though, since he seemed confused. I think he was just trying to get me to shut up. Was I annoying him? Shit, shit, shit!

_Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut for a bit. I'm not used to talking so much, my brain must be tired. That's all. I'm not nervous. Just worn out. _

"So anyways, back to what we were talking about before Craig interrupted," Kyle spoke up from his place on the other side of Tweek, "You're not taking any meds?"

Tweek shook his head. "No, I've tried t-them but they don't do anything _-nngh-_ except m-make me sleepy." He scrunched his brows together in thought. "It stops a little w-when I'm um, comfortable... but that hasn't happened i-in years."

"What stops?" I didn't want to be left out in the dark. Tweek looked up at me with a meek smile, making me hold my breath in anticipation.

"You know... the _-nngh-_ twitching, the freaking o-out, the neuroticism..."

I blinked. "I told you yesterday, it's barely even noticeable."

"Well I think it's cool," Stan said while stuffing his face with a spoonful of pudding. "It makes you unique, so don't let anyone give you shit for it."

Kenny and Kyle nodded along in agreement.

"T-thanks, you guys are r-really cool," Tweek beamed as he fumbled with his thermos some more. "I don't really have friends because _-nngh-_ of it, so t-that means a lot to me..."

"Looks like you've got yourself three new friends, then!" Kenny exclaimed, raising his milk carton as if he were giving a toast.

"Four," I cut in hurriedly. "Don't forget me."

The bell rang for lunch to end and everyone began assembling from the table and heading off to their respective fourth period classes. I watched as Tweek pulled out a yellow slip of paper and examined it.

"What class do you have now?" I asked, craning my neck to peer at the bell schedule in his hands. Before I have a chance to get a look at it, he folds it back up and stuffs it in his pocket.

"S-science, with Mr. Murphy?"

_Fucking finally! _

"Oh hey, me too," I said cooly, trying not to show my enthusiasm. "Here, I'll show you the way."

Tweek nodded and followed me, giving an occasional nervous twitch or squeak on the way as we navigated through the flood of kids in the halls. I have a feeling he didn't do well in crowds, because he was shaking worse than he was at the table. Stan's comment of him being a human massager crossed my mind, making me scoff.

When we made it to class, I was quick to announce that Tweek was new and that I'd be acting as his lab partner before ushering him to my table in the far back where I sat alone.

"Are they n-not here today?" Tweek asked, nodding to the empty seat next to me before sitting in it.

"No, I don't have a lab partner."

"Oh."

"I don't like people."

"I-I'm sorry," he mumbled and began to unscrew the lid to his thermos once more, except this time he actually poured something out. Coffee.

"Don't be sorry, you're fine. I'd like for you to be my lab partner." I froze at the words I'd let slip out when Tweek grinned and took a sip of his drink. I tried to find something else to cover up my previous sentence. "Feel better?" I asked, referring to yesterday when he had a mini-spaz attack over his lack of coffee. He gave a faint laugh and nodded.

"I really like c-coffee. I used to work at a coffee shop b-back home, but the franchise I used to work _-nngh-_ for doesn't have a shop h-here."

"Franchise?"

"My parents are Harbucks e-executives and we moved a lot, so they w-were able to get me a job wherever we _-nngh-_ lived if there was a Harbucks. There isn't one h-here, though."

"Is there a problem?" Mr. Murphy boomed from the front of the room, his eyes burning holes into Tweek and I.

"GAH! Jesus! I'm s-sorry! I didn't m-mean it!" Tweek shouted in horror, covering his mouth. "Don't _-nngh-_ cut out my tongue! I won't t-talk again, I swear!"

Mr. Murphy gave Tweek an odd look and turned back to the board, where he continued to explain whatever he was going over.

"You know, there's a coffee shop a few blocks from here. It's not a Harbucks, but it's the only one in town." I offered. "Maybe check out if they're looking for new employees?"

With his hand still clasped tightly over his mouth, Tweek just nodded.

"Mr. Murphy's not going to cut your tongue off, you know."

He shook his head.

"...are you going to say anything?"

He shook his head again.

"When did you move to town?"

Tweek didn't budge. When I realized there was no use in trying to get him to talk again, I sighed and turned to my paper, doodling along the edges.

_Thanks, Mr. Murphy, for ruining a perfectly fine conversation._

I was planning to continue where we left off after class, but I'd been sent to see Mr. Redfield after flipping Mr. Murphy the bird and missed the last ten minutes of class, meaning Tweek was already on the move. I knew he had Mrs. Erickson's next, but I couldn't bring myself to wait around her door for him like some sort of stalker, so I settled on standing around outside in the courtyard once more where he'd walk right into me. With my luck though, he never showed up. I even waited an extra 20 minutes just to be sure.

_What the hell, is this kid part ghost or something? There's no way he could have passed me._

With a grunt, I headed to my car for the short drive home. While most kids would be shouting about how awesome Friday's are, I was a little irritated with the fact that I wouldn't see Tweek until a fresh school week rolled around. It may have only been two days away, but that's two more days of this boring routine I call life that I'd have to deal with alone.

Pulling into my driveway, I wasted no time in hurrying inside and up the stairs, shutting myself off from the rest of the world in my bedroom. I didn't even know if anybody was home - I hadn't paid attention to see if my parents cars were in the driveway, but I did know that Ruby was still at school, unless she was skipping, which she did a lot.

I fell back onto my bed, my eyes on the ceiling. What was up with me and my infatuation with the new kid lately? This wasn't like me at all, and I wasn't sure what to think of it.

The squeak of Stripe II brought me out of my thoughts as I leaned up, focusing on her cage. I couldn't help but smile as she pawed the bars of her cage, sticking her nose through as if to say hello. I went over and took her out of her cage, bringing her back to my bed and holding her to my chest as I stroked her fur gently.

"Maybe it's just because he's different, right girl?" I asked, nuzzling my cheek to her back. She squeaked in response. "That's all. It's just a break from the same stuff every day. No big deal. I'm sure he'll get old soon. Just need to check 'em out."

I didn't know if I was telling Stripe II what I thought was going on, or if I was actually trying to reassure myself. Either way, I leaned over to my bedside table and clicked my iPod into its speaker dock, pressing play on some _Hot Water Music._

With a sigh, I fell back onto the bed again, Stripe II on my chest, and closed my eyes, following my usual routine. Later I'd put Stripe II back her cage, watch something on Netflix, and do some web design work for a client. I'd get a call from Token or Clyde to come hang out, but I'll tell them that I don't feel like it. I'll shade in a few panels of the latest comic book I'm making, maybe smoke a joint or two, and read before falling asleep early on a Friday night.

God damn, I'm boring.


	3. Meet Jake

"You're in my seat," I grumbled down at the green ushanka-clad redhead. "Get out of my seat."

"Just because you've been sitting with us for the past three days doesn't mean that you have your own spot at the table." Stan said matter-of-factly at me with his stupid face. I rolled my eyes and gave him the middle finger.

Ever since last Friday, I'd been sitting at the table with Kenny and his friends, making it a point to always have the seat on the right of Tweek. It gave me the opportunity to steal looks at Tweek while still sending my condescending glances downwards at Stan so nobody would notice anything different. It was brilliant really, and I wasn't about to have Kenny ruin it for me.

Sure there was always science with Tweek for some one-on-one time, but ever since Friday's miniscule escapade, Tweek wasn't saying anything anytime soon, so we ended up working in silence, me executing whatever it was we had to do while Tweek took care of the writing portion for the labs. I made the mistake of letting him hold the scalpel on Monday, and right when he was about to cut into the frog, he puked everywhere. Safe to assume that I didn't get to walk with him to his 5th period class that day either since he spent it in the nurses office, but I'd managed to be able to the next two days. Those weren't exactly the best times for socializing though, since the halls were so loud and Tweek was too busy freaking out in his skin.

And don't even get me started about how much time I've wasted standing around before and after school. It's like he had a spawn point inside the building or something, making my efforts of running into him moot. I was starting to get really irritated with the lack of progress I was making.

"Seriously, there's tons of space - just move down! Or are you saving it all for Cartman's fatass after he devours everyones lunch and you don't know where to put the rest of him?"

"EY!"

Kyle let out an irritated breath and stood up with his tray, turning to me. "I'm only moving because if your face gets any redder then you'll probably explode, and I don't want your empty grey matter to get on my coat."

"Shut up and go sit next to your boyfriend or something, fag."

Kenny glared at me from across the table, but decided I wasn't of interest anymore when Kyle took the empty seat next to him. Kenny's eyes met Kyle's for a split second before Kenny looked away nervously. If Kenny was trying to keep his stupid crush on the Jew a secret, then he was doing a pretty shitty job.

I grunted and plopped down in my respectful spot next to Tweek, who had his eyes fixed on the table and was sipping from his thermos. I cleared my throat, waiting for him to acknowledge me but he didn't. He just continued to gently shake and look anywhere but my general direction.

_God dammit, look at me._

"Why are you always such an asshole?" Stan asked, cutting through the stale air of silence that fell over us. I shrugged and broke my breadstick in half, dipping it into the pasta sauce and taking a bite.

"Why are you always so annoying?" I answer back with a question, stealing a glance at Tweek who still refused to pay any attention to what was going on. I noticed he didn't have anything to eat as usual, and gave my tray a slight nudge toward him in a sort of offering. "You want some?"

He looked at the contents of my tray for a moment before shaking his head and saying, "No t-thanks. I'm n-not hungry." I almost took his answer for face value too, until his stomach rumbled, calling him a liar. I lifted a brow at him and he turned back to staring at the table.

I sighed and continued to pick at my food, wondering what on Earth I'd done in the past 10 minutes to make him act so strange. Actually now that I thought about it, he was like this everyday around me. He'd be chatting and maybe even laughing along with Stan and the guys, until I came over and he'd shut up like an abused housewife.

Was I that intimidating to him?

I got my answer later in science when he actually said something for once. I was pouring the small container of saltwater into another weird liquid substance that Mr. Murphy had handed out. I mumbled something about how I'd like to throw it in Mr. Murphy's face, and Tweek gave a small chuckle with an added, "You'd better r-run afterwards."

"Yeah, I'd probably have to drag you with me just to be sure he doesn't take his anger out on my lab partner," I joked as Tweek took a sip from his thermos. "God forbid we left that damn thermos behind. Don't know what you'd do with yourself."

"Coffee i-is delicious."

"No way, it's bland and tastes like dirt."

He smiled. "You just haven't t-tasted the real stuff. This one's a _-nngh- _hazelnut blend. It's really good. I'd l-let you try it, but you're s-sick."

I cocked my head to the side and furrowed my brows. "Huh?"

As if he'd said too much, his eyes widened and he quickly looked away, saying not a single word more for the rest of the class. Even afterwards, he bolted out of the room so fast that I didn't even have a chance to attempt to walk with him to his 5th period.

* * *

I sat outside the doors on an empty bench, puffing on a cigarette and flipping through the latest Iron Man comic that I'd recently acquired over the weekend. I really loved Iron Man. He was definitely one of my favorite superheroes, no doubt about it. Tony Stark was like this ultimate human being that I wanted so badly to be myself - he was confident, smart, and was just a gogetter. Of course, he was also a made up character in someone's imagination, so at least I didn't have to feel threatened at the idea of not being able to amount up to such greatness.

But on the other hand, there's Batman. I never cared for his comics, but his character really fascinated me and felt more tangible than a dude in a metal suit who can fly and shoot lasers from his hands. Batman didn't have any crazy scientific technology to aid him, had his own personal demons to battle, and had this asshole quality to him that made him seem all stoic and strong. I liked that. I think if I were one of the two, I'd be Batman.

I'd much rather be Iron Man though, since he at least had his shit together.

The sound of the double doors being pushed through grabbed my attention since I was pretty sure that there was nobody left. It was almost an hour after school had let out, and not even the teachers stuck around for more than 20 minutes if they had to. The only reason I was there was because I wanted to read someplace other than home for once, and the school courtyard proved to be an acceptable spot since it was so dead.

It might as well have been Christmas, because I felt like Santa finally came when I saw Tweek adjusting the strap of his messenger bag, his blonde hair whipping around in the wind. I automatically stood up and practically ran over to him, stopping him in his tracks.

_The day I'm actually not waiting for this kid, he decides to make an appearance. Jesus Christ._

I wanted to say something smooth and casual, maybe even just ask about what he was still doing here so late. Hell, I could have even cracked a joke about the shitty weather and that would have worked, but the only thing that came out of my mouth was, "Punk."

His eyes widened like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. He was alarmed. I seemed to do that to him a lot for some reason. "What?"

I lifted my hat and ran a hand through my hair, wetting my lips. "The music thing, remember from Friday?" I tried to make some sense of my words. "You said you didn't know what kind of music I like. I like punk music. Indie is cool, too. None of that Nirvana grunge shit, though. That just pisses me off."

"Okay," was all he said before attempted to go around me and continue his journey elsewhere. I caught up to him and stood in his way once more before he could get too far.

"Look, I don't know if I said or did something wrong 'cause you're sort of ignoring me. I'm sorry, though. Just tell me what I did."

For what had to be the first time, his gaze met mine and he didn't break away. I noticed that he had dark circles around his eyes, which seemed sunken in, as if he barely slept. He took the time to look between both my eyes, as if he couldn't decide which one to focus on. It felt like his own were burning holes into mine, and I was almost tempted to be the one to look away for once, but I didn't.

When it was clear he wasn't going to say anything, I decided to make a bold move. "If you want, I can give you a ride home. Maybe we can chill at your place for a while. Just hang out."

He shook his head. "I-I can't. I'm busy... sorry."

"Oh. Alright."

"You s-shouldn't be outside," he said. His eyes fell to my nose for a split second before rejoining my own, and I'd never felt self conscious before in my life until then. "It's t-too chilly. You should get inside b-before your cold gets worse."

"What cold?"

"You don't hear _-nngh-_ how sick you s-sound? Can you e-even breathe through your nose?" He unscrewed the lid of his thermos and took a sip. "You should go home a-and turn on a humidifier if y-you have one. That can help. Oh, and h-have some soup."

My mouth dropped as he turned to walk away, this time without me running after him. I watched him disappear around the corner before kicking at the ground in annoyance and returned to the bench so I could finish reading.

_Did he just insult me? That little asshole just made fun of my voice! He's lucky he's built like my little sister or I'd split his shit._ I grumbled quietly in my head as I chewed my bottom lip out of frustration. I tried to think of how stupid his stutter was or how irritating his constant shaking could be, but I couldn't bring myself to do so, which made me even more pissed.

Despite the eminent threats that continued to pour from my thoughts, I wasn't really even pissed. Just offended... and nobody has ever offended me before.

* * *

The sound of a bell rang over my head as I pushed the door open and stepped inside, the comforting smell of coffee wafting over me. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath with a smile.

I'd decided to stop by the only coffee shop in town after school in hopes of getting a job, something to keep me busy and at ease as much as possible. People might have made me nervous, but coffee certainly didn't.

"Can I help you?"

I opened my eyes and looked at the man behind the counter. He had short black hair and grey eyes, with a pair of metal rings protruding from his bottom lip. He looked incredibly similar to Craig in appearance and size, but Craig was lacking the appropriate quarter-sleeve tattoos, piercings, and an air of friendliness around him like this person had. While Craig's usual expression was one of disdain and irritation, this man had a more-than-happy-to-help smile donning his lips.

Upon inspection of his nametag, I found out his name was Jake.

"Y-yes, I um... I was wondering if you were _-nngh-_ hiring?" I blushed after ruining my introduction. I was trying so hard not to give off any sudden twitches, but I guess my body didn't agree with me.

Jake furrowed his brows, his smile still on his lips as he looked me over. "Nervous, huh?"

"Sort of. It's mostly anxiety, i-is all."

"Ahh," He dipped below the counter for a second before coming back up with a piece of paper. He slapped it on the counter and motioned for me to come over. I obliged. "That's cool. I mean, it's cool as in different. I'm sure you're not the biggest fan of it."

I nodded, thankful he wasn't laughing at me like a lot of the kids from school did. I could see his facial stubble. It looked like he hadn't shaved in at least three days. It looked nice, and I wondered what Craig would look like with it. "Yeah."

"Well, I'll just need you to fill this out," He pushed the paper toward me. "Not like there's much of a reason for you to do it since nobody ever really applies here, but you know, for the sake of paperwork and all things holy or whatever."

"Are you t-the manager?"

He nodded. "Yeah, been so for the past couple of years since I graduated from high school. I don't own the place, though. Might as well, since I'm the only one ever keeping up with it." He looked me over once more with a grin. "It'd be nice to have another hand around here. Do you have any experience?"

I nodded furiously. "Oh, d-definitely! I've been _-nngh-_ working in coffee shops since I was around twelve y-years old. I l-love coffee!"

"That's great, then. I knew you were a coffee aficionado the second you walked through that door. First I thought it was because that little jittery thing you had going on from a lack of caffeine or something, but then I smelled you from all the way over here. You smell like a walking coffee shop yourself." he laughed, showing me his perfectly straight pearly whites.

"Sorry,"

"Are you kidding? Don't be sorry! Here, just fill this out. It shouldn't take too long," He scanned over the paper as I picked up a pen from the counter and got to work. "Tweek Tweak? That's your name? Oh man, that's cool. Age... date of birth... criminal history... nothing? You sure you're not a bank robber or mass murderer? C'mon, I know the truth."

I froze and threw the pen down, my hands finding their way to my hair. "Oh God! You think I-I'm a murderer! I'm not! I d-didn't kill anyone! JESUS CHRIST!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down," Jake raised his hands up in defeat and stepped back. "I was just joking with you. I don't think you're a murderer, or any sort of criminal for that matter."

I bit my lip and looked down, embarrassed. I let my hands fall to my side with an, "Oh. I'm s-sorry. You probably _-nngh-_ just want me to leave, r-right?"

Jake laughed. "No way, you're a riot. I'll stop pestering you and let you finish the application in peace. When you're done, just leave it and I'll give you a call sometime later tonight or tomorrow. I've got to grab some grounds from the stockroom."

I nodded and did just as he said, leaving immediately once I was finished. I didn't want to jinx my strange bout of luck that I had recently come across and hurried home, where I found myself alone. Mom and Dad had left on one of their countless business trips, but that was alright since I didn't mind having the house to myself. It allowed me some time to turn my music up as loud as I wanted to without worrying about bothering anyone, so it was nice.

Nighttime was a different story, though. I really hated being alone at night, and the weird sounds that echoed throughout the house kept me up and alert throughout most of it until the early hours of the day when sunlight began to make its reappearance. I'd keep myself locked up in my room with the music as loud as it could go until then.

I went into the kitchen and began to brew myself a fresh pot of coffee, desperately in need of some caffeine. I had ran out of coffee since that awkward confrontation between Craig and I, where he seemed to get mad when I suggested he get inside before his cold got worse and I left before he would probably shout at me. Then again, he was always mad... even when you're just trying to help him, apparently.

What was his problem, anyways? Why was he always so angry, fighting everyone and everything? It's like nothing was ever good enough for him, and he had to let the world know. It made me uncomfortable. I couldn't handle mean people.

Then he had called Kyle a fag at lunch earlier today. That was really nerve wracking and freaked me out more than _Cartman_ did, and _he_ was sort of a huge douchebag. Did Craig not like gay people? What if he found out I liked guys... would he hate me and make fun of me too? I didn't want that! I didn't want anything but to be hidden in the background like I usually was, but I guess that wasn't going to happen. Ever since I came to this new town, it's like my whole life had changed. There were people who actually wanted to be friends with me, even Jake from the coffee shop was cool! It was really... nice.

Craig was still on my mind though, for some reason. Maybe he didn't hate gay people. Guys use the word fag as an insult all the time, but they don't really mean it, right?

I don't know. Craig did try to apologize earlier, but he didn't even know what he was apologizing for. Maybe he's not so bad, he probably just needs a friend. He doesn't seem to really have any, and he _is_ making some sort of effort with me, at least I think so. Besides, it might have been nice to have him come over. It's been a long time since I had company.

I sipped at my coffee and mused over the idea of inviting him over.

_Tomorrow._


	4. I'm Straight

I stressed a groan as I pressed my hands to either side of my head. It'd been a long day for me since I hadn't slept at all last night, thanks to some asshole in the house behind me who decided to blast their music until six in the morning. To add insult to injury, it wasn't even good music.

Alright, maybe it wasn't that bad and there might have even been a couple songs I knew and liked, but all I wanted to do was get some fucking sleep.

"You're looking lovely and not worn out at all, Tucker." Kenny sniggered from where he was leaning against a pole, smoke blowing from his mouth with every word. "What's up?"

"I'm fucking tired, that's what's up."

"Shit, really? Never would have guessed."

"Asshole."

"Takes one to know one."

I scoffed. "What are you, eight?" Kenny shrugged and took another drag from his cigarette. I followed suit with my own. "You know, you haven't asked for a cigarette from me since last Friday. Finally getting paid for being a whore?"

He shook his head and put out the last of his cigarette, flicking the butt into the grass behind us. He watched as the kids began to empty out of the school with a sort of uneasy glint in his eyes. "I haven't slept with anyone in months."

"Still doesn't explain where you're getting cigs from other than me." I announced, holding back my original line of, "Wow, and you haven't exploded from not letting out your sexual frustration on the whole town. Congrats."

"I got a job. You know the gas station up on Main Street, the one with the plywood duct taped where a window should be?"

"Mhmm," I hummed while taking another drag. "Charming place, but why? I thought you were fine and dandy with being poor forever. Never seemed to bother you before."

I saw some color rise in his cheeks. Was Kenny McCormick blushing? I didn't even know that was physically possible for such a manslut. "Kyle's not gonna go for someone who can barely pay to breathe the air on this planet."

"Knew it," I called out unphased. "Guess that also explains the sudden change in wardrobe. Moving on up from Goodwill to Walmart, I see. Does Kyle know?"

"Does he know I like him?"

"Yeah."

"No," Kenny dragged the heel of his boot along the ground, leaving some sort of dark brown residue line. "I'm kinda freaked out to tell him. What if he doesn't like me?"

I shrugged, not caring enough to play the stupid comforting friend role. From my peripheral vision, I could see that Kenny's eyes were burning holes into the side of my head, waiting for a reply. Well, he wasn't going to get one.

"I just don't know what to do. I mean, I've had it bad for him since fourth grade. It's his fucking eyes, dude. I swear. I don't know if I want to risk our friendship though, you know? It's like, one wrong move and everything's lost down the drain. Part of me thinks I should just give it up, but then again, you never know if you don't try, right? Maybe I'm just thinking too-"

"Jesus fucking Christ, when I didn't answer you the first time, it didn't mean to keep running your damn mouth," I growled, flicking the last of my cigarette out into the open courtyard that was now devoid of people other than Kenny and myself. "Just because we smoke together doesn't mean I'm giving you an open invitation to drive me up a fucking wall."

"Fuck you, okay? I'm just trying to talk to you about something serious for once, so you don't have to be such a dick about it. Lord knows you've got your own love life issues when Tweek won't even give you the time of day."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I glowered.

Kenny's all knowing smirk found its place back on his lips, his eyes dangerous and narrow. "You decide to sit with us at lunch out of the blue, which also happened to be the first day Tweek sat with us. You'll fight until you get to sit next to him, you actually try _talking _to him, and you're always staring at him." He pulled out another cigarette and lit it up. "But Tweek just won't return the favor."

"He's just weird, that's all."

"Yeah, around you. He chats with the rest of us just fine, so you keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night."

I flipped him off. "You don't know shit."

"I know something's definitely going on in that head of yours. I also know that you were mean muggin' him pretty hard today at lunch, didn't even try to say anything to him. What happened? He bruise your ego?"

I rolled my eyes at the smug blonde and looked at the ground, recalling the events of the past several hours. Kenny wasn't lying about lunch, that's for certain. After being insulted yesterday, I couldn't even bring myself to say anything to Tweek, and instead settled on giving him the dirtiest looks I could muster up. Tweek didn't seem to notice though, or at least didn't care if he did notice. The same went with science, too. I'd glare him down while he sipped from his stupid thermos and worked on his assignment.

"He told me I was sick," I admitted irritatedly. "He told me I should go home and eat soup and turn on a humidiwhateverthefuck. 'Oh, can you even breathe out of your nose? You should get inside. You can't drink my coffee because you'll give me a cold and I'll die.'"

Kenny let out a monstrous laugh. "Dude, he made fun of your voice? That's what's got your panties all up in a bunch today? That's golden!"

"It's not funny!" I shouted angrily. "It's not even that bad... is it?"

"C-Craig?"

I looked away from the laughing blonde to meet Tweek's gentle gaze. I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. "What, here to make fun of my voice some more?"

Tweek furrowed his brows in confusion. "Your v-voice?"

"Oh God, Tweekers," Kenny managed through his fit of laughter, "If you think he sounds sick now, you should have met him a few years ago. It was sooo bad."

"Shut up!" I howled, throwing my car keys at Kenny and hitting him in the thigh. Kenny was right about my voice. It'd always been nasally, but at least now it wasn't nearly as bad as it was back when I was younger. Thankfully my voice deepened and that irritating nasally quality died down, but it was still sort of there. I was under the impression it was barely even noticeable anymore though, until Tweek had to poke fun at how I sounded sick. "I seriously hate you right now."

"You're not s-sick?" Tweek asked, ignoring Kenny's humorous cries. I raised a brow and shook my head, my arms returning to their place across my chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that _-nngh-_ was just how y-you sounded. I r-really didn't mean to offend you."

"What do you want?" I asked, wanting to hurry this confrontation up. He might have said sorry for mistaking me for being sick, but that didn't mean I still wasn't feeling irritated about it.

He picked at the skin on his fingers nervously. "I-I was wondering if you w-would give me a ride home... if the offer from yesterday s-still stands and it's n-not too much trouble."

I looked from Tweek to Kenny, waiting for some sort of snide comment. When he didn't give one, I turned my focus back to Tweek. "Sure. Come on, I'll drop you off."

Tweek gave me a thankful smile and I flipped Kenny off as a goodbye before heading towards my beat up maroon Jeep Cherokee that sat in the parking lot. The car would have been in much better shape if it weren't subjected to being the usual object I told my rage out on.

As I slipped the key into the ignition, Tweek began to fumble around with some papers that were at his feet. He pulled up the Iron Man comic that I'd been reading yesterday in the courtyard. Usually I took really good care of my comics, being sure to place them in mylar sleeves and stow them away gingerly in longboxes, but that particular issue was horrible so I could care less.

Now that I thought about it actually, maybe it was the fact I'd been insulted while reading it that made it so unappealing to me.

_He wasn't making fun of me, he just really thought I was sick. _

"Iron Man?" he asked nobody in particular while flicking through the pages.

I nodded. "Yup."

"I didn't k-know you liked comics."

"There's a lot of things that most people don't know about me," I grunted and wondered if what I said was actually true. There wasn't really much to me that made me unique. Even if there were, nobody cared enough about me to want to know. Depressing. "What about you?"

"I-I never really tried reading them _-nngh-_ before," he admitted while his eyes scanned over a few panels. I took the chance to steal a look at him while he was busy focused on something. He was cute. "I don't know where I would start."

"I'll help you out if you'd like. There are tons of superheroes and titles and everything, so it can be pretty overwhelming when you first start out. I think you'd enjoy it, though. Comics are cool. Like there's Iron Man, Batman, Spider-Man, Thor, Green Lantern, Captain America, Wolverine... just so many. Hundreds, if not thousands. Marvel is my favorite. You seem like a DC kind of person, though." I found myself rambling before I could realize it.

"I'd like t-that."

"Okay, cool."

Most of the ride was in a bit of an awkward silence since I decided to keep my mouth shut in fear of rambling on again about superheroes like the huge lame ass nerd I was, so at a stoplight I began to hum one of the songs from last night that had gotten stuck in my head. I was trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping that Tweek couldn't hear me over the sound of the passing cars, but I guess luck wasn't on my side.

"Is that Tunng?"

"What?" I asked mid-hum.

"That song you w-were humming," he clarified as he turned in his seat to look at me. "It sounded a lot l-like this one _-nngh-_ song called _Hustle _by a b-band named Tunng. I love them, it's o-one of my favorite songs."

I shrugged. "I don't know, I just heard it somewhere and it's sort of been in my head all day." I left out the lovely part of the story where it was one of the offenders that kept me up last night. I yawned at the thought, and followed Tweek's given directions without another word about some stupid song called _Hustle_.

_What the fuck kind of song name is that. Even the band name is weird._

"You know, I r-really wasn't making fun of _-nngh-_ your v-voice."

I nodded. "I know."

Silence.

"I l-like your voice."

Silence again.

"It's unique."

I felt blood rush to the tips of my ears and I tried to hold the small smile that was fighting to make itself known. My vendetta against Tweek had faded, and the silence that fell over us once more was a lot more comfortable.

* * *

I'm not exactly sure how I found myself upstairs in Tweek's bedroom, watching him as he dug his toes into his blue shag carpet. There was that awkward, "Thanks for the ride home, I'll see you tomorrow," but then it was overshadowed by a, "Wanna come in?" Granted, there were a few twitches and stammers in between, but that's besides the point. I found myself clamoring up the Tweak household stairs as Tweek explained his parents whereabouts and how he was home alone most of the time because of it. I tried to pay attention, but it was hard when I was busy looking at everything around me, whipping my head left and right, taking in the new sights. I was sort of a one-track mind kind of guy, so it's not like anyone could blame me.

I felt compelled to mimic Tweek's actions, but I didn't exactly know if it was alright for me to just take off my shoes and do that. I opted to keep them on and leaned against the wall near his window, examining the posters that littered his walls.

"I didn't know people still had shag carpet," I joked with a forced smile, trying to break up the tension between us. He made it clear on the way up that he didn't usually have people in his room, and I understood since I wasn't one who often found myself in such situations either, so it was like we were two socially inept teenagers. "It's cool. Feels like I've been transported back to the 70s."

He let out a small laugh and I turned to look out the window. "It feels n-nice. I've always had s-shag carpet in my _-nngh-_ room." I furrowed my brows and pursed my lips upon seeing my own house in sight. I lived one street over, almost directly behind where I stood now, and I didn't even realize it. "It's kind of calming i-in a way, too."

_Was he the one keeping me up all night?_

"Speaking of calming," I turned back to him while he was fumbling with his iPod, plugging it into its docking station. "The other day, you said something about how you're not so nervous and stuff when you're calm, but you haven't been calm in years?"

He nodded shyly, turning his iPod on. Music began to fill the air around us, barely audible, but it was loud enough for me to instantly recognize that it sounded exactly like the stuff that had tortured me all through last night. I gritted my teeth, wanting to make it known that I didn't appreciate him keeping me up at night with his annoying music, but instead I just found myself asking, "So what did that mean?"

_It really wasn't even that loud. I just can't fall asleep with any sort of noise. It's not his fault._

"It w-was someone. They made m-me feel... safe."

"Oh?" My interest was piqued, and I decided to fish for more details. Specifically, what side of the playing field he was on. "What happened?"

He kept his eyes on his iPod as he scrolled through music. I could tell he was nervous. "You s-said you liked punk m-music. Is The Clash _-nngh-_ okay?"

"Sure."

He clicked a button and _London Calling_ began. My shoulders relaxed, me not even noticing that I had been tense in the first place. In the back of my mind, I was silently thanking whatever music God there was. Finally, something I could listen to and still think. Tweek sat on the floor, his back against his bed, and I sunk to the ground myself.

"She left me." Tweek said quietly as he played with his hands. "I-I guess I was too _-nngh-_ much for them to handle. I was okay most of t-the time, but every now and then I'd h-have a panic attack, or - oh God!" He tugged at his hair for a second before calming back down. "She told me that she c-couldn't deal with constantly having to _-nngh-_ look over me, someone so dependent on others," He chewed his bottom lip. "I-I was getting better, you know, with everything... but she started c-cheating, and I knew about it, and i-it just made me more anxious... that's when she _-nngh-_ began to tell m-me those things."

I wasn't one for comforting others in the least, but there was a part of me that felt offended for Tweek and what he had to go through. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry, that he didn't deserve it, but I didn't. It was already odd enough for me to be feeling these things.

"She?" I asked.

He seemed hesitant for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth between mine. "Yes."

I felt a pang of disappointment. "You had a girlfriend?"

"Yeah," He sounded more sure of himself this time. I nodded and focused on the bamboo plant that sat in the corner of his room. "Her n-name was Kelly."

"No offense, but I didn't think you'd be straight."

Tweek froze. "You thought I-I was gay?"

I shrugged. "Sort of."

Silence.

"Well, I'm n-not," Tweek assured. "But even if was _-nngh-_ gay, would it b-be a problem?"

I raised a brow in suspicion. That was a weird question. "No?"

"But you called Kyle a _-nngh-_ fag."

I chuckled, a smile cracking my hardened expression. "I don't hate gay people. I just use it as an insult sometimes. Especially for those guys - I don't know about any of them being gay for sure, but Kenny's got a total boner for Kyle."

Tweek seemed to perk up at the gossip. "Really?"

"Yup. Told me all about it before you asked for a ride home."

"I think t-they would be cute," Tweek thought out loud with a faint smile. I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "Kyle is r-really stubborn though. You t-think they'll end up _-nngh-_ together? You know, if Kyle is gay?"

"Bleh."

Tweek frowned. "What?"

"Do we have to talk about those losers?"

He stood up and went over to his bookshelf, scanning through the thin tomes. "Why are you a-always so mean to them? It's like you're _-nngh-_ purposely trying to p-pick fights and stuff." He pulled out an off white hardcover book and flipped it open to a bookmarked page, holding it out to me so that I could read whatever was on it. "Is there something t-that you're afraid of? Intimacy, i-is that it?"

I took the book and looked over the page, my blood boiling with each line of text. I flipped it shut and read the title: _The Conscious and Unconscious Mind_.

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me," I spat while tossing the book onto the floor. "A fucking psychology book? Really, you want to examine my fucking head as if I've got issues or something? Fuck off."

Tweek kept his arms crossed over his chest, though I could tell he was visibly shaken from my outburst. I felt bad, but he brought it on himself with that dumbass move. "I just don't u-understand what your p-problem is with them."

I gave a sardonic laugh. "They're irritating, that's what my problem is with them. You don't even know what they're like. They're always getting into weird scenarios and shit, dragging the whole town down with them if they have to." I stood up, leaning against the wall in my previous spot once more. "You know they got me stuck in Peru? Not before asking me to invest a hundred dollars into their stupid idea that almost got the whole world destroyed."

"Kenny t-told me that story," Tweek giggled.

"It's not even just that, though. It's everything about them! Stan with his girlfriend and his stupid fucking face, being all buddy buddy with Kyle who acts like this Jewish saint or something, getting straight A's and being a teacher's wet dream. Kenny's fine, but his smugness makes me want to hurl him into traffic. Don't even get me started on Cartman."

"I don't like Cartman either," Tweek admitted after I had finished with my rant. "He's mean."

"_I'm_ mean."

Tweek gave a thoughtful expression before sitting on his bed, turning so that he was facing me. "Yeah, but I-I don't think you're really as m-mean as you make yourself _-nngh-_ out to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think that you're j-just afraid to get close to people-"

"I hate people."

"-so you try and hide b-behind a tough exterior." Tweak finished, leaning down to pick up the discarded psychology book. He handed it to me, and for some reason I found myself taking it. I didn't toss it this time. "If you l-look through this, you'll understand _-nngh-_ more of what I mean."

I huffed. "I don't like to think I can be neatly packaged in a little box of words."

"I-I didn't say that you could be. Just... check it o-out."

"Why?"

Tweek took some time before he answered my question. "Because I think you're m-missing out on a lot of great t-things from s-staying so reserved and _-nngh-_ angry."

"Like what?"

"Like Stan's Spring Break p-party that he's throwing n-next week. You should go."

I scoffed. "That idiot didn't invite me, so why bother."

"Maybe i-if you were nicer he'd invite you," Tweek answered like some sort of sociological genius. I blamed these damn books he read. "You should t-try to be more _-nngh-_ friendly with them. They're really nice."

"Eh..."

I think Tweek had said something because I didn't even have to suck up to Stan like I thought I would the next day when he randomly surprised me at lunch with an invitation to his Spring Break party. I wanted so badly to tell him to take it and shove it up his ass, but Tweek had given me a knowing glance from the corner of his eye and I found myself accepting the invite as graciously as I possibly could with a middle finger in the air and a, "Thanks, asshole."

I gave Tweek a ride to his new job at the coffee shop after school that day, promising I'd stop by sometime when I was free. Lord knew I had all the time in the world at that moment, but I felt smothered with the constant being around people for two days straight and needed some air. It also didn't help that I wanted to read a bit more of that chapter Tweek had marked in that dumb book he made me borrow, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flip through the pages at one of the tables while he watched on with a smug smile or something.

I wasn't sure what Tweek was thinking, or if he was expecting that I'd somehow be "cured" of being a douchebag or whatever overnight after I read his miracle book, coming to school in sweater vests and telling Stan how much I apologize for thinking his face was stupid, because it definitely wasn't going to happen. Either way, I figured I'd humor him and myself.

Despite the love-hate relationship I had with the book, both nights after I was done reading a couple paragraphs I fell asleep with my window cracked open and a faint smirk to the sound of Tweek's annoying music.


	5. Comics

I slammed the door of my car shut and ran for the small brick building, hunched over to cover my portfolio folder full of my still-being-worked-on comic pages and inking pens. The weather in South Park decided to turn to shit today, the day that I had actually decided to get out of my room and try working in a new spot, which is what I was doing here.

The strong scent of coffee poured over me the instant I pushed through that door, and Rilo Kiley was lightly pounding through the ceiling speakers. I smirked at the fact I was able to remember the name of that band. Tweek was definitely working.

I look around the almost empty shop. For a Tuesday night, it was pretty dead in here. Aren't coffee shops supposed to be hipster central or something, no matter the time of day? Besides, where was Tweek?

"How can I help you?"

I spun around to be met with a pair of light grey eyes and a friendly smile. The owner of these features had a mug in his hand and was drying it off with a washcloth as a bartender would. I felt like I was staring into a mirror, except one that added five or six years. It was fucking weird.

"Uh," I palmed the back of my neck nervously with my free hand, "Is Tweek here?"

He blinked. "Oh! Stan, right? Hold on, I'll go get him for you. He was in the stockroom last time I checked, putting together one of the new espresso machines. I'll let him know you're here," He turned and headed to the back, leaving me alone in the dimly lit room. I furrowed my brows and took a seat at one of the booths in the far corner of the shop.

_Did he just call me Stan?_

I dumped my folder out, grabbed a pen and a piece of notebook paper, and began to jot down some storyboard ideas for the comic I was working on. I was halfway through with it, but I couldn't figure out how to end the current event arc that Captain Craig—me in superhero form— had found himself in.

_Captain Craig thought he was finished. He could have sworn it was over when he threw the evil Doctor Darkness over the cliff on that dreary, rainy night... so why was he standing before his arch nemesis who seemed to not have a single scratch on him? _

"Craig?"

I looked up as Tweek was taking a seat across from me.

"Weren't expecting me, huh."

Tweek shook his head. "Jake said that _-nngh-_ Stan was h-here. I guess he m-must have figured you two were the same person b-because of the hair. He never did _-nngh-_ get a good look at either of y-you guys."

"Stan's been here before?"

"Yeah, he and t-the others stop by s-sometimes. Mostly Kenny. He's in here a-almost every day, getting a latte for Kyle."

I pursed my lips. I don't know why, but I didn't like the fact that those douchebags had been hanging around Tweek without me. "Oh."

"But I'm r-really glad that you decided to come _-nngh-_ in! I haven't s-seen you since Friday."

I perked up at his enthusiasm. "Yeah, sorry I didn't stop by sooner. I've been sort of out of it lately and just needed some alone time. I did text, though. That should count for something."

Tweek nodded and looked down at the black and white papers in front of him. I watched as he picked one up, where Captain Craig was clutching Doctor Darkness by the neck and pushing him towards the edge of a cliff. Tweek scanned over the image and then moved onto another page, where Doctor Darkness was plummeting to his supposed death. I chewed on my lip nervously. Nobody had ever seen my work before.

"What a-are these?"

"Oh, those. Um, they're... comics?"

"I didn't know t-that you made your own comics." He shuffled through the mess of papers and found another, where Captain Craig was suiting up for battle. "He looks like you."

I nodded and cleared my throat. "It's supposed to be me. You know, as a superhero. It's stupid," I went to grab the uninked page from his grip but he move it out of reach, still looking it over. I tensed up.

"It's n-not stupid at all. This is really _-nngh-_ neat."

"You think so?"

"Yeah! But why are t-they all just loose pieces o-of paper?" he asked curiously while handing the page to me.

"They're not finished yet. First I draw the comics out in pencil, and then I'll go over them with black ink. Later when I have some time, I scan the inked pages to my computer and I'll make a few quick edits, add some details and then color them in." I explained generously. "When I've got all the pages for the book done, which there are usually around twelve or fourteen of, I'll send the files to an on demand printing company and they'll send me the finished book."

"So w-what do you do with them after t-that?"

I shrugged. "Just keep them in a box under my bed. Nothing else to do with them."

Tweek frowned and shook his head in disagreement. "That's n-no good. Why not sell them or s-something?"

"I'd like to, but nobody wants to read some dumb comics made a kid who's stuck in the middle of nowhere," I sighed and began collecting everything together, placing the papers in a neat stack and putting them back into their folder.

"You don't _-nngh-_ know t-that! I bet they're great!"

"Not really."

"Has anyone ever r-read them?"

"Nope."

"Can I?"

"What?"

"Would it be o-okay for me to read the ones t-that you've made?"

I froze and looked around to make sure nobody was watching. For some reason, I felt like there were a million and one pairs of eyes on me. Nobody even knew about my comics, let alone wanted to read them. I wasn't sure if I was alright with the prospect of someone else reading and being able to criticize my work, but it was impossible to say no to that adorable messy blonde-haired twitchy kid that was sitting in front of me.

"One," I caved. "You can read one, but that's it."

Tweek smiled and for a second I thought it was going to rip his face in two. I couldn't help but crack a small grin myself. Tweek's happiness was contagious. "Deal."

"Hey, you wanna ditch this place and maybe go catch a movie?" I asked while fumbling with my pen, suddenly wanting to get out of there. Tweek nodded and stood up from his seat.

"That sounds f-fun, let me just tell Jake that I'm _-nngh-_ leaving. Business is really s-slow today so he won't mind." Tweek explained and scurried over to the counter. While I put the last of my things back into my portfolio, I saw Tweek leaning over the counter to chat with the man who was supposed to be Jake. He gave Tweek a grin and a pat on the shoulder before Tweek came back over to me. There was a weird stirring feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Everything good?"

"Yeah. He t-told me to tell you that he was sorry for c-calling you Stan."

"Oh, thanks," I stood up and started toward the door, holding it open for Tweek on the way out. Thankfully it had stopped raining so hard and it was just coming down in a light drizzle. I could handle that. "So what's up with that Jake guy, anyway?"

"GAH! What do you m-mean? Do you know s-something about him that I don't know? Is he t-trying to kill me!"

"What?" I opened my car door and slid into the seat, buckling up. "No, nobodies trying to kill you, dude. I mean what's up with him is all. Is he cool?"

Tweek let out a breath of relief and began to untie the apron from around his neck. "Oh! Yeah, h-he's really nice to me and understanding about _-nngh-_ you know... a-all this."

"Hmm," I hummed as I pulled out of the parking lot. Even though Tweek had told me he was straight in his room the other day, I still had my doubts. There was just something off about the way he had told me, and Jake existing wasn't making my life any easier. "How old is he?"

Tweek furrowed his brows in thought. "I-I think he's twenty-two."

_Okay, that's like, five years older than Tweek. That should keep anything from happening._

I shook my head.

_Why do I even care?_

* * *

"Thanks f-for the movie, Craig. Are you _-nngh-_ sure that y-you don't want me to pay you b-back for the ticket?" I asked as we pulled into my driveway. He cut the engine and waved my concerns away as if to tell me not to worry about it.

"Your parents _still_ aren't home?" he asked incredulously as he looked at my house. There wasn't a single light on inside and there weren't any other cars in the driveway. I gulped, realizing that I'd have to go inside alone and find the light switch in a pitch black room. It didn't help the fact that it was a little past ten o'clock and the sun had set two hours earlier. I was freaking out on the inside, but I tried to hide it and shook my head. "They were h-here Sunday but _-nngh-_ had to leave again f-for Arizona last night."

"You're shakin' like a leaf, dude. Are you alright?"

I guess my attempts at trying to sit still weren't working, so I decided to stop kidding myself and just let loose. "GAH! No! It's so d-dark in t-there! I hate it when _-nngh-_ it's dark and you can't see anything! There might be a m-murderer or something even WORSE!"

"Whoa, alright. Look, I'll walk with you inside so that you won't be alone while trying to find the switch, okay?" he offered while grabbing at my hands and gently pulling them away from my head. I wasn't even aware that I had been pulling on my hair. "Come on."

I followed him from his car to my front door, where he stood awkwardly as I fumbled to unlock it. Throwing the door open, a low creak emitted through the air as darkness overtook us. I felt a large warm hand wrap around my own and I looked over to see Craig staring straight ahead. There was a warm feeling brewing inside of me from the contact. It was nice.

"Don't worry, I've got you," Craig assured me in that low, nasally voice of his as he stepped inside, dragging me along with him. Usually I'd be afraid to do this, going into my house when all the lights were out—I've even gone as far as sitting outside on the front porch, the streetlights keeping me calm until morning came and it was safe to go inside—but for some reason, knowing that Craig was there right beside me was tranquilizing; as if I didn't have a care in the world since I knew he'd keep me safe.

_Would he?_

The lights flicked on, and the living room seemed untouched. Good. That meant nobody had tried to break in and successfully robbed us.

Craig's hand fell from my own. I wanted to frown in protest at the loss of warmth, but I didn't, since that'd probably be weird.

"Safe and sound," he said in a partially-chipper tone. He gave me a small grin and began towards the open front door, stopping in front of it. "I should be heading back home since it's way past my bedtime, so I'll text you tomorrow, alright?"

I laughed. I was tired too, what with barely ever getting any sleep and all, but the thought that Craig Tucker had a bedtime was somewhat funny to me. He seemed like the type of guy to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, kicking ass and taking names. I wondered if maybe he was joking and I just didn't catch on—he did have a dry sense of humor, after all.

"What?" He asked.

Perhaps he _was _serious.

"N-nothing."

"Oh. Okay, well, goodnight I guess... unless there's anything else you need?"

My brows knitted together in thought. _Was_ there anything else I needed? There were a thousand and one things I needed, but nothing from him specifically. He was just Craig, the kind of mean, stoic, and quiet dark haired boy who for some reason found me interesting enough to want to be around and not make fun of. Now that I thought about it, there were a few things I needed that he was actually giving me; companionship, understanding, and stability being three of them.

"I-I think I'll be okay," I yawned.

"You sure?"

I looked around the room and rubbed my hands together nervously. There was one thing that I could really use at the moment besides a cup of coffee, but I couldn't burden him with the responsibility. He'd probably say no, anyways. "Yeah."

"I can stay over," There was a bit of an uncomfortable silence between the two of us as he chewed on his bottom lip, seemingly contemplating his next words. "I mean, unless you're sure that you'll be fine alone. I really don't mind spending the night."

"Really?" I find myself asking without thinking about it. He nodded. I swore he was reading my mind. "That'd be really _-nngh-_ great, actually. I-I can't really sleep when I'm home alone. It's s-scary, and I hate i-it. I'm always afraid that s-something bad is going to happen, and if I'm sleeping, then I'll get h-hurt!"

He frowned in confusion. "You're home alone a lot though... are you telling me you stay awake these nights?" I nodded, only making him frown more. There was a glint of realization in his eyes for a moment. "That's why you always look so tired, isn't it? Those dark circles under your eyes, the shaking—it's because you don't sleep!"

I winced at his words. I didn't know that it was so obvious. "Not t-the shaking, really. Maybe a l-little bit of it, but _-nngh-_ most of it is f-from anxiety."

"Well I'm sure a good night's sleep will help either way," he figured and shut the door behind him, locking it up before coming back over to me and grabbing my arm, making my stomach flip. He tugged me towards the staircase and I obliged without a single word as he mumbled, "Let's get to bed. I'm about to pass out and you probably are too."

Before I knew it, we were standing in the middle of my shag-carpeted bedroom while Craig was tearing off his shirt and shoes, leaving him in his jeans. It was hard for me not to stare at his naked upper body—he was _perfect_. There was no six pack or perfectly tanned-all-over skin, but he was solid, toned and his farmer's tan was oddly adorable. There were a few faint freckles along his lower stomach, and the fuzzy trail leading from his navel to vanish beneath his belt made me feel lightheaded. I made no move to remove my own shirt in fear of embarrassment, and had already discarded of my shoes at the front door a minute earlier.

The sight of him standing in front of my bed with his arms crossed over his chest brought me back to reality and sent a shiver down my spine. I realized that he was waiting for a reply.

"W-what?"

"I said for you to get in first. You'll probably feel safer between the wall and myself, and I could keep an eye on the door so that I could see if anyone tries to come in."

"Gah! We're sleeping t-together?"

He looked at me as if it were supposed to be obvious. "Yeah?"

The idea of him in bed with me made me feel tingly and nauseous at the same time. I didn't even realize it before, but I wanted nothing more than for him to be next to me, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist as I snuggled into his chest and drifted off to sleep, feeling content and protected. On the other hand, I was absolutely terrified of this—I didn't want to be so close to him, subjecting him to deal with my constant shivering; what if it kept him awake and he hated me afterwards and never wanted to sleep with me again? What if he didn't like the way I felt, or if I snored and woke him up? Oh God!

"I'm gonna sleep on t-the floor," I stated and began to drop to my knees. Without hesitating, he did the same.

"Alright, I guess we can do that, but I don't understand—"

"No!"

"No what?"

I got back up and frantically pulled at my hair. "I can't sleep w-with you!"

Craig hurriedly stood and went to release my hands from my hair for the second time that night. "Okay, it's alright! I can just... I'll sleep on the floor."

"But w-what about you? I can s-sleep on the floor—"

Craig shook his head and pushed me down onto my bed with a gentle but forceful shove. "No, Tweek. I really don't mind taking the floor, okay? I want you to sleep in your bed—you look like you haven't had a proper night's rest in decades, and I'll be damned if you don't get one tonight."

I nodded and kept my mouth shut. I wanted to argue with him, but if I learned anything about Craig over the past week or so, it's that he's stubborn and doesn't back down. If he's made up his mind about sleeping on the floor, then there's no use in putting up a fight with him.

I shuffled around the blankets on my bed and tossed one down to him, along with a pillow, and watched as he grunted in thanks and began to make himself as comfortable as possible. Once he was situated, I clicked my bedside table light off and burrowed my way under my own covers.

I couldn't see Craig anymore, but I could hear him breathing through his nose. I cracked a small smile as I remembered how offended he got when I thought he was sick. His voice really was unique, and I couldn't help but find it attractive. There were a lot of attractive things about him—his grey eyes, big hands, strong jaw, all the usual stuff—but his voice really stood out and was sort of the icing on the delicious cake that was Craig.

"Thanks for t-this, Craig. It really means a lot to m-me."

I heard him grunt again, before saying, "Don't worry about it. Now go to sleep, alright? Nothing's gonna happen to you. I'll keep you safe. I promise."

I couldn't help but let my smile grow wider and turned over to face the wall as I tried to piece some things together from my thoughts earlier in the living room—Companionship; Craig kept me company and actually tried to hang out with me. He gave me attention and asked me to do things, like go to the movies, and gave me rides, like... like a real friend. I wasn't used to this sort of relationship with people, but along with Stan, Kyle, and Kenny, Craig was definitely what I would consider a friend.

Craig was different from the others, though—they were always hanging out with each other, hardly ever seen alone. Stan and Kyle were undoubtedly the best of friends, while Kenny seemed to fit right in the middle, though he sort of clung to Kyle more than Stan. When he was with neither, he found no trouble in attaching himself to one of the other many friends he had. Kenny was popular, and it was easy to see why since he had charisma and a natural charm to him. He was also a really sweet guy, willing to do whatever it was to make someone else smile. I liked that about him. He was selfless.

Like I said though, it was as if they all had someone special... but then there was Craig, who didn't have anyone. He was a loner, someone who purposely isolated himself off from the rest of the human population and focused solely on himself. He smoked with Kenny, used to sit with Token and Clyde, but never really had an interest in anyone. If someone tried talking to him, he'd simply flip them off and continue to ignore them. He was alone. He had nobody but himself.

Which I guess is what made me feel so special in a sort of way since he actually wanted to talk to me. He didn't get irritated or mad like he did so easily with others, and he actually took an interest in my well being. It made me feel special, as if I could be that one person he opened up to and had... sort of like Stan and Kyle, I guess, but a bit different.

Understanding; Craig seemed to give me a lot of that, and I was insanely grateful for it. Not once did he make fun of me or tell me to just _stop_ whenever I stuttered or twitched, and when I panicked, he tried to calm me down. I assumed that this went hand in hand with the _friendship _we shared and proved it was real—if we weren't friends, he'd laugh at my shortcomings with ease, right?

Then there was the stability that he provided; his cool and calm collectedness made me feel more at ease than any medication that a doctor had tried to shove down my throat before. His usually-blank expressions weren't easy to define, but that was alright since he had no problem speaking what was on his mind right then and there most of the time. There was nothing to hide with him. He was simple and predictable, and I liked it. It made me feel safe and secure, washing away the threats of my often-paranoid thoughts... he was like a security blanket.

_Made just for me._


	6. Stan's Party

**AUTHORS NOTE:** I just wanted to thank my awesome reviewers since I haven't done so before; you guys make me want to update a lot faster than humanly possible for myself and make me happy :) I'm currently toying with the ideas of a possible Kenny x Craig and even a Clyde x Tweek multi-chaptered story... what do you guys think of that? Let me know! (I've really gotta give these one-shots a try)

* * *

Tweek made me do crazy things; like spend unnecessary amounts of time in coffee shops even though I hated coffee, let him read the comics that I've written, and actually attempt to be nice to people. I've apologized more in the past almost two weeks than I have in my entire life, and even though the word 'sorry' leaves a bit of a bad taste in my mouth, I deal with it because Tweek always gives me this little smile when I say it. It's the sort of smile that says, "I'm proud of you," and I know Tweek thinks that his dumb psychology book probably has something to do with my actions, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. Either way, I'm not going to rain on his little twitchy parade.

During the evenings, I'd spend some time on the roof of my house where I had a clear view of Tweek's bedroom window, watching to catch an occasional glimpse as he danced awkwardly around to his music. Then when it got late, I'd call and offer to come over so he wouldn't be alone; I'm pretty sure that I've earned myself a semi-permanent spot on the floor by his bed to keep an eye out.

Like I said, though—Tweek made me do things I normally wouldn't do, which is how I found myself walking up the path to Stan's house with my arm slung around Tweek's shoulders in a friendly manner. Since getting a few nights worth of actual sleep for once, he seemed a lot healthier and his twitching had subdued a noticeable amount, but he was still a quivering mess. In a way, I was kind of glad that it didn't completely disappear; I'd sort of grown accustomed to his body being stuck on vibrate-mode. It was... cute. Every little thing about him was.

It was late on a Saturday night, which made no sense to me since Stan's party was supposed to be a Spring Break party and he could have easily thrown one on any Saturday of the month, but whatever. I wasn't about to complain and point out his stupidity. I'd apologized enough over the past few hours (twice to a Taco Bell employee and once to a cross guard—I'd given a cop the middle finger since there's no way in Hell I'd ever say sorry to one, especially when they were issuing me a parking ticket), and even though Tweek's smiles are like crack for me, Stan was my least favorite person in the world.

"Hey, guys! You made it!" Stan chirped as he stuck his head outside the front door. The music that was being somewhat-contained inside leaked out. I hated it. "Whoa, Craig? I didn't think you'd actually come—Glad to see you did!"

I gritted my teeth and forced a fake grin. "Yeah."

"The party l-looks great, Stan!" Tweek shouted over the music as Stan let us inside. I figured there'd be a lot more people there, but that wasn't the case. Stan's group and some other familiar faces were scattered around the living room and the kitchen. I don't know what I was expecting—maybe something more of Project X proportions—but I was glad it wasn't too big. This seemed manageable.

It wasn't too easy to hear over all the commotion, but Stan said something about drinks being in the kitchen and smoking on the back porch. The latter caught my attention; a cigarette would have done me some good.

"You gonna be alright if I step outside and light one up real quick?" I asked, motioning to the back door. Tweek furrowed his brows and looked around the room for a second as if he were sizing up the challenge before nodding. I would have invited him, but I knew how he was about smoking, paranoid of getting lung cancer from second hand smoke. Perhaps I should have been a little cautious myself, but I think I've been pansified enough from apologizing so much; now I have to compensate with lots of nicotine and other harsh chemicals.

I watched as Tweek spotted Kyle heading to the kitchen and followed suit before I made my way to the back porch. Token and Kevin were on the wooden steps passing a joint back and forth, and Kenny was leaning against the rails as he puffed on his own cancer stick. I gave him a quick nod and joined him, lighting one up myself.

"Look at you, hanging out at a party," Kenny teased with his signature smug grin. "I think this is the first one I've ever seen you at."

"Tweek made me come."

"What, did he promise you a blowjob or something?"

I flipped him off. "I can exploit your stupid crush too, you know. You're probably only here because Broflovski is. Shouldn't you be up his ass like you usually are?"

Color rose to Kenny's cheeks. Now it was my turn to wear the smug grin. "Dude, I'm giving him space. I started wearing this new expensive-ass cologne I got from Dillard's today since, you know, I figured he'd dig me more if I didn't smell like beer and mildew, but I don't think he likes it."

I leaned in and gave him a sniff, recoiling as soon as I smelled him. "Jesus Christ, you smell like a French hooker!" I coughed, pounding my chest with a fist. "That's fucking strong, dude. Thank God the smoke is covering it up, sort of."

"That's what he said—about it being strong, I mean."

"Just get some fucking Febreze; It's cheap and won't make him feel like he's chatting up a lady of the night."

He scoffed and took a drag. "Only poor people use Febreze."

I seriously had to hold back from punching him in the throat. "Just because you've got a few bucks in your pocket now doesn't mean you're rich, McCormick. Besides, Febreze is nice since it's not overpowering. I use it."

"It's not meant to be used as a cologne, dude."

"Well Tweek thinks I smell good, so fuck you."

He laughed and flicked the cigarette butt over the rail. There was a few seconds of silence before he turned back to me with a glint in his eyes that made me feel incredibly uneasy for some reason. "I've got an idea."

"What?"

"Truth or Dare," he said as if it were the answer to all of our questions. I lifted a brow to signal for him to continue. "Let's start a game of Truth or Dare. That way, we'll both get what we want!"

I wasn't sure if I understood; Truth or Dare was possibly _the _most juvenile party game ever invented, and as far as I was concerned, was used purely for humiliation purposes. "What is it that we want?"

"You want Tweek, and I want Kyle. It's perfect!"

"I swear to God, if you don't start making more sense, I'm going to—"

"When it's your turn to choose someone, pick Kyle and dare him to do something with me. Like, maybe dare us to make out, or for him to give me a lap dance or whatever—I don't care, as long as it's awesome. I'll return the favor by daring Tweek to give you a kiss since you're a wuss and would probably flip the fuck out if it was anything more."

"Hmm," I pondered his offer for a moment. As much as I wanted to flip him off and tell him to go shove his dumb game up his ass, I couldn't argue with the fact that it _was _a pretty good idea. I'd definitely thought about kissing Tweek before, but I wasn't sure how to go about it, especially since he was supposedly straight.

_Wait, if he's dared to kiss me and actually does, then maybe I'll know for sure if he's gay or not. _

"It's got to be an open-mouth kiss," I answered. "There has to be tongue."

He seemed taken aback. "Didn't see that one coming."

"Well it's the only way I'll know for sure."

"Know what?"

I tossed my own half-burned cigarette into the snow below us and watched it sizzle out. "Nothing. Let's just—let's go. I'll find Tweek and Kyle. You go get a game started in Stan's room since it's probably quiet in there." I opened my jacket and pulled out a small travel-sized bottle of Febreze, spraying some over me. Kenny watched on amused. "What?"

"Seriously?"

"Shut the fuck up."

* * *

The kitchen had a lot more people in it than I was hoping for, which made it annoyingly tough to push through. Thankfully I found Tweek and Kyle with ease near the fridge, the redhead laughing loudly about whatever it was they were talking about while Tweek swayed back and forth uncoordinatedly.

"Hey, I'm done," I put my hand on Tweek's shoulder, causing him to turn around and face me. His eyes were glazed over slightly and he had a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. Strangely enough, he wasn't shaking at all and seemed to be far too calm than he should have been. "Oh God. How much did you drink?"

He giggled while Kyle held up eight fingers in the background. I mentally slapped myself for leaving Tweek alone. Eight shots in a span of ten minutes was already a lot of liquor in such a short amount of time, but the fact that he was definitely a lightweight who probably had never drank before was even worse.

"Fucking party!" Kyle shouted, throwing his hands in the air. The liquid in his red plastic cup swished around, some of it splashing out. Tweek threw his own hands up in response with a loud, "Woo!" and a, "Fuck yeah!"

I don't think I'd ever heard him curse before that. "You're so wasted."

"I think you should have a shot with us," Tweek drawled and wrapped his arms around my neck, pressing his cheek to my chest. I felt my body grow warm from the unexpected contact. "You need to let loose. You're always s-so uptight!"

"Mhmm." Kyle agreed.

Getting these two to agree to play Truth or Dare was going to be easier than I thought.

"I'm not _that _uptight," I defended, silently wondering if I was. "Besides, if I were uptight, would I be coming to get you guys to play Truth or Dare?"

Tweek's eyes lit up as soon as the title of that raunchy game left my lips. "I wanna play!"

"Good, because it's not like you have much of a choice," I pulled away from Tweek and began to lead him through the crowd of people. Kyle was hot on his heels, and I looked back every so often to make sure he was still following. If he weren't there to play too, then Kenny would back out of his side of the deal.

_Not much of a choice because of all that damn alcohol you two sucked down._

Stan's room was practically silent compared to the noise downstairs. The bass from the speakers gently vibrated the room and the faint sound of chatting could be heard, but it was still possible to whisper and be able to hear.

Kenny was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the bed with a smirk on his face upon seeing us. He'd managed to convince Stan, Bebe, Clyde, and Wendy to play with us. I gulped, feeling slightly nervous about kissing Tweek in front of everyone. In my mind, I was expecting for it to just be Tweek, Kenny, Kyle, and myself.

"Kenny!" Kyle chimed cheerfully as he threw himself at the dirty-blonde, nuzzling his face in Kenny's neck. Kenny's smirk only grew at this. "I've missed you sooo much! I haven't seen you in... in hours!"

I rolled my eyes and sat down next to Wendy, across from Tweek. He kept smiling and giggling at me. It was insanely hard to not smile back like an idiot.

"So, I'll go first since it's my house, after all," Stan started as he tapped his chin in thought for a suitable truth or dare for Clyde. I felt butterflies in my stomach as the game started. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to Kenny's plan.

Minutes passed, stupid dares were fulfilled, and way too many embarrassing truths were divulged (specifically my preference of blondes, which Tweek didn't even bat an eyelash at—I blamed the alcohol) until it was Kenny's turn once more to execute his part of the plan. I'd dared Kyle earlier to make out with him, but Kyle ended up completely bypassing Kenny's lips and instead found interest in sitting in his lap and playing with his hair. Though I could tell Kenny was upset that he didn't get to kiss the redhead, he was more than happy to just have Kyle's hands on him.

"Tweek," he grinned and shot a glance at me. "I dare you to kiss Craig, with tongue. _Lots_ _of it."_

I swallowed hard and looked across at Tweek, who's alcohol-induced coolness was beginning to fade away. He looked nervous, slightly worried, and was even shaking a little.

"Kiss h-him?" he asked unsurely. Kenny nodded.

I unconsciously licked my lips as Tweek scooted in and leaned forward just a little bit. Tweek still looked freaked out, and it was starting to freak _me_ out more than I already was. With every inch he closed in on, the more frantic thoughts ran through my mind at an unnatural speed. I felt like I'd switched brains with Tweek.

_What if this is a really bad idea? He's probably not even gay_—_see how hesitant he is? He wouldn't look so scared if he liked guys! Oh God, I've got to stop, this isn't right... am I taking advantage of him? I think I'm taking advantage of him! He's too drunk! Shit, shit, shit, shit!_

"I can't do this," I spazzed and stood up right before Tweek could get any closer. I didn't even dare to look around at everyone before I dashed out of the room, closing the door behind me and sat down at the top of the stairs. I buried my face in my hands and let out a groan of desperation.

Behind me, I heard the bedroom door open and close. Footsteps slowly ensued, and I assumed for it to be Kenny when someone sat down next to me.

"I'm sorry," Tweek's soft voice rang out, barely audible over all the talking. The music had stopped some time ago, which I was grateful for since it was driving me nuts. "I didn't mean t-to make you run away. I'm sorry."

I lifted my head and looked over at the messy-haired blonde. His glazed eyes were sad and his lips turned downwards. He was fumbling with his fingers.

"No, don't be. There's no reason for you to be sorry. It was just a stupid dare."

"I made you uncomfortable."

I shook my head. "It's... it's not that."

"I made you uncomfortable because I'm gay, isn't it?"

My body went rigid and my eyes grew wide at his sort-of confession. It was my turn to stutter. "I-I thought—You said you w-were straight... last week, remember?"

The next thing I knew, there was a flash of yellow and olive green as he flung himself into my chest, sobbing. I could feel his warm tears through my thin t-shirt, and I found myself wrapping my arms around him, rubbing his back.

"I lied," he bawled into my shoulder. "I'm not—I'm not straight."

"What about Kelly?"

There was a delay in his answer. "There w-was no Kelly... it was a g-guy... Daniel."

"But the story was true, right?" I felt him nod. "Why did you lie to me?"

Tweek pulled away and shrugged carelessly, his eyes on the stairs below us. I wondered if he'd remember any of this when he woke up tomorrow. "I was afraid of what you'd t-think. I didn't realize t-that you _-nngh-_ would be okay with me being gay until afterwards, and I—I couldn't just t-take back what I said because then you'd n-never trust me."

Silence fell between the two of us as he kept his interest in on the steps and I rubbed small circles into my temples. I don't know why this came as so much of a shock to me. I had my suspicions that he was lying about being straight, after all.

Then Jake decided to invade my thoughts. I cringed at the realization that if Tweek is definitely into guys, then I had to watch out for that dark-haired asshole making a move on him. There was just something about Jake that threw me off, and I'd be damned if he wormed his way into Tweek's life as anything more than a co-worker or friend.

How long could I hold him off, though? Tweek clearly liked Jake, whether it was as a friend or something more. The afternoons I spent in the shop revealed a sort of bond between the two, laughing and joking around as they fulfilled orders and completed their duties. Jake might have been a spitting image of an older version of myself underneath those tattoos and piercings, but he was still... _different_. He was more perky and personable, handing out high-fives and one-armed hugs to anyone and everyone... and his perfect fucking teeth—nobody could _possibly _have teeth that straight!

_I should have kissed him. I should've just fucking kissed him._

I might have blown my chance. Now how will I ever know if he likes me at all?

"Craig?"

I lifted my head and looked over at the messy-haired boy.

"I-I wan't to go home."

Wanting to get out of there myself, it didn't take me long to let Stan and the others know that I was leaving and taking Tweek with me. Kenny had kept his eyes on me the whole time I was in the room, as if he was trying to telepathically tell me that we needed to talk. Sucks for him since I got out of there as fast as I possibly could, dragging a sluggish Tweek with me.

Tweek had fallen asleep on the drive back to his place, which wasn't exactly the greatest thing to happen since I couldn't bring myself to wake him up and let him know he was home. I tried to palm my way through his pockets for the house key so that I could carry him inside, but they must've been in one of his back pockets since I couldn't find it (and there was no way I was going to find out for sure). In the end, I took him back to my house and carried him bridal style up to my room. It was a good thing that everyone was asleep since I wasn't exactly sure how I could possibly explain what was going on with the mindset I was currently in.

Dumping him as gently as possible onto my bed, I stripped him of his shoes and momentarily considered taking his shirt off, but decided against it. I was surprised that he was still knocked out. I figured it was the alcohol since Tweek was usually a pretty light sleeper.

Undressing myself and throwing on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, I was now faced with a dilemma:

_Should I let Tweek have my bed and sleep on the floor, or should I just scoot him over and crawl in next to him?_

The rational part of me (almost all of me?) thought that I should just do what I've been doing the past few days, taking my place besides the bed, even if it _was_ mine to begin with. Tweek made it pretty clear that he didn't want to sleep in the same bed as me, and he'd probably flip shit if he woke up to find me drooling on the pillow next to him.

But another part of me that I can't exactly put my finger on thought I should throw caution to the wind and jump in bed next to him, not because of the fact that I didn't have the luxury of plush, soft shag carpet to get cozy on, but something entirely different... _curiousity_. I was curious of these feelings that I found myself developing as of late for the twitchy kid, and I mean, why not indulge a little? He _was _out cold, after all.

Besides, it was cold as tits in my bedroom and Tweek was skin and bones, so he needed _someone _to keep him warm; if that wasn't a viable excuse for sleeping next to him, then I didn't know what the fuck was.

Needless to say, I found myself pushing him towards the wall and stretched out next to him, making sure to keep some distance between the two of us just to be on the safe side. I turned off my bedside lamp and turned over to face him; his mouth was parted slightly and I could feel the light puffs of air he'd rhythmically breathe out every couple of seconds. If it weren't for the fact that his breath smelled of alcohol, coffee, and pretzels, I probably would have basked in the moment a little longer. Instead, I shifted upwards to get out of the way of his breathing and pulled the blanket up around us.

Before I drifted off to sleep, I peeked an eye open to get one last look at the napping blonde who'd begun to shiver slightly.

I smirked.

This wasn't so bad.


	7. Tweek's Hangover

**A/N:** It's been a wicked long month since I've updated, and I'd like to apologize. You see, I managed to accidentally delete the document that I had the storyboard for this story written out in, so I've got to put it all back together again. I'm expecting this story to run for about 25 chapters? Just a rough estimate. So uh, here's this. I'll get the next chapter up asap, and I promise it'll be a lot better than this one. - Harvard

* * *

As I sat on the hardwood floor while looking up at Tweek as if he were the antichrist, I realized that I'd never been woken up by being shoved out of my own bed before. I guess there's a first time for everything, though.

"What... what the fuck?" I mumbled and rubbed my eyes. I wasn't exactly sure of what on Earth was happening at the current moment since I was having quite a nice snooze just a few moments before all of _this _began, so my speech sounded garbled and slurred together.

The alarm clock next to my bed blinked 2:32PM.

Tweek's nervous gaze was on me as if I would stand up and pummel him into the mattress at any given second. "I-I woke up and you w-were sleeping _-nngh-_ next to me!"

Ceasing my yawn, I lifted a brow amusedly. "I know."

"_We slept together!"_

I stood up and cracked my back. "I know."

I guess my two-word answers weren't enough for the spazztic blonde as he jumped out of the bed, patting himself down as if to make sure that all of his body parts were there and none of his organs had been harvested for the black market. I was going to tell him that he was all there in one piece when one of his hands shot up to press against his forehead.

"I feel l-like I've been hit by a _-nngh-_ train," he groaned painfully, his eyes screwed shut tight. I laughed and fell to my knees, digging around beneath my bed for a black and white Vans shoe box. I pulled it out and sifted through the small stack of comics I had in it until I came to the one I was looking for.

"Yeah, alcohol can do that to you. You were pretty far gone last night at the party for most of it," I explained and stood back up. I held out the comic and waited for him to open his eyes. "You even admitted that you were gay. I didn't drink, so I can only imagine what you're feeling right now."

His eyes shot open and a worried expression replaced his one of pain. "W-what?"

I assumed he was asking about the comic, so I told him, "It's the next one you're supposed to read. This one's got Captain Craig revealing how he got his powers, and even hints at how he knew Doctor Darkness before he became a villain. It's the best one I've made so far."

He just continued to stare at me. "I'm n-not gay, Craig. I like—"

"You told me Kelly was a dude and that you lied because you were scared. It's alright, don't worry about it. I don't care if you're gay," I tried to assure him before he took off like a frightened squirrel. With the way he was acting at the moment, I wouldn't be surprised if he actually did make a run for the door. "So do you wanna hang out or are you busy today?"

He looked around, taking in his surroundings. He had never been in my room before, let alone even knew where I lived. For some reason, his house was the one we'd always find ourselves at.

"I've gotta go," he finally said after a long minute while his gaze was fixed on my bedroom window. "I have to g-get ready for work."

I dropped the comic onto the bed when I realize he had no intentions on taking it and chewed the inside of my cheek. Part of me felt dejected because of it. Hadn't I made it clear to him that nobody read my comics? He was the _only_ person I'd ever let see them, and here he was turning them down.

Deciding not to make a deal of it, I reached for my car keys and held them up. He was still looking out the window with knitted brows. "Here, I'll drop you off."

"You live right behind me," he said quietly. It was _too_ quiet, too calm. It worried me. "Why d-didn't you ever tell me that you lived _-nngh-_ right behind me?"

I didn't know how to answer that, so I told the half-truth. "Didn't want you to stop playing that weird music of yours." I left out the parts about how I'd taken up to watching him from my roof sometimes. "Besides, I like going to your place. It's a change of scenery."

I didn't get a chance to try and evaluate the new look painted on Tweek's features before he was straightening out his clothes and heading for my bedroom door. Afraid I might have spooked him, I reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. He tugged his arm out of my grasp.

"I'm gonna w-walk home since it's so c-close," he announced heatedly as he tore open the door. I followed close on his heels through the house, attempting to make use of my tongue and the English language but nothing came out of my mouth. "Thanks for t-taking care of _-nngh-_ me."

"Wait, is everything alright?" I asked once I finally figured out how to use words again. Tweek just continued to open the front door and scurry down the front porch steps, leaving me to stand alone.

As I watched him disappear between the side of my house and the neighbors, I realized that this would be the second time Tweek Tweak has left me confused with unanswered questions, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

Eventually I gathered myself back up and stormed my way back up the stairs, feeling slighted and even a little hurt. For the first time in my life, I felt like I needed to talk to someone and vent. It was odd since all my life I'd been a loner, completely fine—happy, even—with being left alone, but then again I never had to deal with these—these _feelings._ I had always taken care to make sure that I was comfortable and never put under new stresses, but now since I'd been thrown out of my comfort zone with this interest I'd found in Tweek, I didn't know how to handle these types of situations.

I was beginning to doubt myself, feel uncomfortable, nervous...

I hated it.

The first thing I did when I made it back to the confines of my bedroom was snatch my phone from the bedside table and text Kenny, asking him if we could meet up and chill. I figured since he and I were sort of in the same boat that maybe he'd be the best one to talk about with this.

Apparently whether or not he was the man for the job didn't matter; he had his hands full with Kyle, who he was currently trying to woo over ice cream.

I'd never flipped anything off harder than my phone at that moment.

At a loss and in a bit of a hurry, I ended up texting the next person who immediately came to mind. I just as quickly regretted it after I'd sent the message, too.

Part of me silently prayed that he wouldn't answer back, that he'd just ignore me and go on about his merry day doing whatever it is he and his stupid face did on a daily basis, but obviously the odds just weren't in my favor now, were they.

I sighed when I read the message, half-irritated with myself and half-relieved that I could at least talk to someone and get my mind off of Tweek.

_**sure dude. come ovr, im home alone til 5. i'll order pizza. - SM**_

* * *

"We're out of grounds! Bring some out when you're done, alright?" Jake shouted from the front of the shop. I grabbed the broom and dustpan from the corner. It was amazing how much of a mess it could get in here after just a few days.

"Okay!" I called back, letting him know that I heard him loud and clear. I waited to listen for any additional instructions but none came.

I sighed and began to sweep the storage room floor. There wasn't enough for me to do at the shop today to keep my mind off of Craig. I felt so bad for running out on him like that, but I didn't know what else to do!

I bent down and scooped the dirt into the dustpan.

I mean, I couldn't even recall everything that happened at the party... just bits and pieces. I remembered something about a game and being dared to kiss Craig. I also remembered him running off before I could do it... that memory came flooding back the instant that Craig said I told him that I was gay.

For some reason I couldn't remember that, and it scared the shit out of me; what if I made a fool of myself? Did I do anything stupid? Did I try to kiss him again and I couldn't remember? My mind felt like it was going to explode with questions that I couldn't bring myself to ask, so the only thing I could think of was to high tail it out of there.

I thought I was keeping my composure pretty well, but then I realized he was hiding the fact that he lived right behind me and was listening to my music! Did that make him a stalker? _Oh God!_ I didn't want him to be a stalker—_I don't like stalkers!_

As I dumped the dustpan into the trash, I pursed my lips and shook my head of those stupid thoughts. Craig wasn't a stalker... well, at least I thought he wasn't. Craig was a good guy. _Good._

Still, it didn't help that he was sleeping with me... I thought I'd made it clear to him that we couldn't sleep in the same bed. Jesus Christ, what if I snored or if I kicked him in my sleep? This is just too much to think about!

"You alright?"

"GAH!" I pulled at my hair that I wasn't even aware of my tight grip on. Jake worriedly hurried over to me and unraveled my fingers like Craig did whenever he saw me get like that. I sheepishly looked at the ground once he was finished. "T-thanks. I uh, I guess I _-nngh-_ sort of freaked out a b-bit."

"A bit. Right," Jake scoffed with a playful grin. "What's bothering you, Tweek? You're usually pretty calm back here. Like it's your little sane-room or something."

I forced a wry smile and shrugged, placing the broom back in the corner. "I don't know, it's s-sort of stupid," I sighed. "It's Craig."

He perked a brow. "The kid I called Stan? What, do I gotta kick his ass?"

I laughed. "No! I think I j-just might have hurt his feelings is a-all. It's kind of a l-long _-nngh-_ story." I kneeled down and poked around under the bottom shelf for the huge bulk-sized bag of grounds, dragging it out to the center of the floor and over to Jake who picked it up over his shoulder as if it were nothing. Show off. "How do you make it up to someone w-when you make them upset? I'm not really used to having to d-do it."

Jake hummed in thought and scratched his chin with his free hand. "Well what's he into? You can always get him a gift or something. That usually works with women."

I followed him out of the storage room and back to the front of the shop. Night was beginning to fall and the streetlights were turning on one by one outside.

"There's a problem with t-that logic," I smirked. "Craig is definitely a guy."

"Well I dunno about him, but if someone bought me a video game after making me mad, I think I'd have to forgive them in a heartbeat."

That gave me an idea.

"You're into c-comics, right?" I asked.

Jake nodded. "Very much so. I've got tons; I need to actually get rid of a few boxes since they're taking up so much room. I've got lots of rare DC issues from the Silver Age. Why, are you looking for something in particular?"

"Silver Age... does t-that mean they're good _-nngh-_ for collecting?" I remembered Craig telling me something about how there were different ages in comics, but I wasn't too keen on specifics. I sort of zoned out while holding his guinea pig at the time.

"Yeah, it's usually considered the best age for comics."

I nodded and began to untie the strings of my apron. It was nearing closing time. "Can I-I stop by sometime and c-check them out?"

Jake smiled as he wiped down the espresso machine. "Of course. Whenever's fine for you. Just give me a call."

I thanked him and went to begin counting the money in the drawer until I felt someone's eyes on me. I turned around to see Jake watching me intently.

"Uh,"

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but you've always got a couple of mismatched buttons," Jake said as he reached forward and grabbed ahold of my shirt.

"Gah!" I flinched and jumped back. "I-I know!"

Jake's furrowed brows let up and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You're really funny, you know that?" He went back to busying himself with cleaning one of the coffee machines. "You remind me of a little bunny rabbit, sometimes."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I didn't.

Jake tossed the dirty rag to the side and scratched nervously at his neck for a second. "I was wondering... would you like to go see Modest Mouse in Denver with me?"

"You want to go to a c-concert with _me?"_

"Yeah, what do you say?"

I twiddled my thumbs nervously for a second. I wasn't used to having friends and being asked to do things; It was nice, don't get me wrong, but it was still sort of new to me.

Once I had calmed my nerves down enough to assure myself that Jake wasn't planning on kidnapping me, murdering me and dumping me in the woods somewhere, I said, "That sounds like it'd be fun."

I momentarily thought about asking if Craig could come with us, but I decided against it when Jake gave me a friendly grin and, once more, began cleaning the machines. Craig was amazing and definitely the best friend I had out of small handful of people I knew, but I couldn't just always expect for him to be around. I needed to find my own friends and be independent, otherwise I'd probably smother Craig... and that was the last thing I wanted to do.


End file.
